


Friends in Strange Places

by tangerine (arte)



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Crossover, Episode: s11e23 Alpha and Omega, Gen, Season/Series 11 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 08:26:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7162268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arte/pseuds/tangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A banishing spell send angels to random places on Earth, which means theoretically, it could lead to lots of awkwardness.</p>
<p>For instance, an angel might get in the way of two policemen and a thug and get shot instead</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friends in Strange Places

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Lizbob for most of my crack fic: http://elizabethrobertajones.tumblr.com/post/145706795508/how-well-do-you-think-cas-would-get-along-with

A banishing spell send angels to random places on Earth, which means theoretically, it could lead to lots of awkwardness.

For instance, an angel might get in the way of two policemen and a thug and get shot instead. 

Castiel looks down at his shirt which now has a smoking hole in it. He finds this all incredibly unnecessary. He has a lot to deal with: Dean is dead, Sam is in danger, and he is hundreds of miles away from them both. He doesn't need to worry about his clothes too.

"What- why, huh?" The thug who shot Castiel stutters, looking back and forth between Castiel and his gun.

"Please don't shoot again," Castiel advises in a tired voice when the thug tries to pull the trigger again. "It's not like you'll repair my shirt."

"Your shirt? That's what you're worried about?!" The man shouts hysterically, waving his gun around. "I shot you. I shot you!!"

"Yes, you did," Castiel says. "And I'm acknowledging that your bullet was damaging to my shirt."

The man's erratic breathing starts to even out at Castiel's relentless calmness. "So- so, you're okay?" the man asks confusedly.

"I'm uninjured."

"Oh," the man says, slowly lowering his gun. "I'm- actually quite good with needles."

"Then you should've sticked to sewing and not drugs," says Holt, having recovered his wit faster than anyone else. In a few seconds, he's pulling the gun away from the thug's unresisting hands and cuffing the man behind his back. "You're under arrest, Timmy Turner. You have the right to remain silent-"

"Wait, wait, wait," Peralta says. "You're just arresting the guy?"

Holt gives a deadpanned stare. "What else are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know." Peralta shrugs and bounces on his feet, looking like a welsikogi high on meth. "Maybe freak out a bit more about how that man got shot and yet is perfectly fine?"

Holt inclines his head, considering. He turns to Castiel. "Thanks for your help, though it looked unintentional. Is there anything you need, sir?"

Castiel appreciates Holt's attitude. He isn't in a place where he can deal with someone else's crisis.

"I need a ride to Lebanon, Kansas. My friend might be in danger."

Holt nods. "I can help you with that after we put this guy in the station."

Peralta goggles at Holt. "Wait, Holt, you can't be thinking of driving this guy to Lebanon!"

"Why can't I?"

"Because!" Peralta waves his hands, unable to encompass all that he wants to say. "What about Kevin?"

"He's on a business trip. He won't be returning until next Thursday."

"That's not what I was- Argh!" Peralta abandons all attempt at articulation. "Then at least take me with you."

"To Lebanon?"

"Yeah!"

Holt gives a questioning look at Castiel. Castiel blinks mildly. "If you insist."

"If you insist," Peralta repeats, shaking his head. "Am I the one being weird here? Am I?"

-

"What the heck happened to you?" Santiago asked upon seeing Peralta on Monday. The man looked haunted and hollow.

With a thousand miles stare Peralta replied, "I went to a road trip with Captain Holt during the weekend."

Santiago whipped her head toward him. "You did what?" She looked positively offended. "How come only you get the special treatment?"

"I assure you, it wasn't anything like that." Peralta rubbed his eyes as if he wanted to erase particular memories from his head. "They said I was not funny! I mean, Holt laughed until he cried at Castiel's jokes and vice versa but they didn't react at all at my comments. How could this happen? I'm the funny guy, that's my identity right there. Who am I supposed to be if not a funny guy? I don't even know who I am anymore!"

"This is so not fair," Santiago crossed her arms. "You saw Holt laughing? Tell me you at least recorded it." 

"Santiago, a man is having an identity crisis. Show some compassion."

"Give me the video."

A silent of battle of will happened. Peralta was the first to cave. "Alright. But I can't tell you everything right now, too little time. Meet me after the hour?"

Santiago raised her brow calculatingly. "Fine. You better spill everything then."

"I seriously can't wait," Peralta sighed. "I need therapy."


End file.
